


Love The Way You Lie

by lovemyway (vesper93)



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Boudoir Photography, Confidence, Emotional Abuse, M/M, Negging (past), New York City, Oral Sex, Sex, gaslighting (past), mentions of domestic abuse, photographer, relationships, slight angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-19
Updated: 2019-12-19
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:07:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21864220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vesper93/pseuds/lovemyway
Summary: In which Timmy is a boudoir photographer, and Armie is his subject in need of a little confidence boost.
Relationships: Timothée Chalamet/Armie Hammer
Comments: 24
Kudos: 76





	Love The Way You Lie

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!
> 
> So I know I've got loads of stories ongoing, but for some reason my brain was like NOOOEPPPEEE... don't wanna work on those, wanna do this instead. So, I did this instead. 
> 
> Hope you like my little brain detour. 
> 
> V  
> xxx

‘I’m going out to my three o’clock. Is there anything specific I should know?’

Brigitte looked down at the iPad sitting on her desk, before pulling a face and shaking her head.

‘The lady who made the appointment wasn’t very forthcoming. All I got was the name, address, and the fact that the guy might be a little bit nervous, but apparently, he was game.’

‘Good, I can do nervous,’ said Timothée, ‘But the last thing I need is some angry guy who’s been set up or something.’

‘That wasn’t the vibe I got, she sounded sweet on the phone, excited even.’

‘But it’s just the guy, isn’t it?’ he confirmed as he shrugged on his jacket, ‘Not the two of them?’

‘No, she was very clear on the phone, just him,’ she said, ‘Armie Hammer.’

Timothée paused in picking up his rucksack and briefcase, ‘Armie?’

Brigitte giggled at the sceptical look on his face, and then shrugged, ‘Could be an alias.’

‘Could be,’ he said, ‘Alright, well I’ll see you tomorrow morning then Brigitte. Can you make sure everything’s in order before you lock up?’

‘Not a problem,’ she said, smiling sweetly as he disappeared out of the gallery onto the busy New York street, holding out an arm to instantly flag down a cab. He smirked as the cabbie ignored two overladen shoppers further up the street in favour of pulling in by him. His suit, haircut, and sunglasses made him look expensive. He knew it wasn’t overly charitable of him, but he couldn’t deny that it was useful when he needed to get somewhere, and fast.

**

He knocked on the door of the suite; not quite the penthouse of the swanky hotel, he noted, but somewhere pretty close. Clearly this guy, or whoever had booked this for him, wasn’t short of a penny or two.

A moment later the door opened to reveal well… a giant, as far as Timmy was concerned. This guy was well over six foot tall, with the most amazing blue eyes that he had ever seen. He instantly knew what would be the focus of several of the photographs he was going to take today; there was no way he was going to pass up the opportunity of having the man with these incredible eyes.

‘Hi,’ he said, holding out his hand, ‘Timothée Chalamet, photographer. I’m here for Armie Hammer, I take that’s you?’

He was hoping against hope that it was; he’d be really bummed out if this was Hammer’s secretary or boyfriend, or Hammer turned out to be some eighty-year-old dude and this was his grandson or something.

‘Yeah,’ said the guy, taking his hand, ‘That’s me. Come on in.’

Timmy entered the suite, looking around. He’d been in many hotel rooms in his life, and this one was nice enough; two rooms, the bedroom and the lounge. There was a bed, couch, a couple of chairs, coffee table. And then of course, there was the bathroom. Sometimes, if the client was feeling brave enough, they would do some shots in the shower, or in the bathroom mirror, but he’d gauge the mood later in the day.

He put his stuff down, and looked around to see Armie – he was curious to find out if that really was his name – standing beside the door with his hands in his pockets, looking awkwardly at the floor, as if he was trying to make himself look smaller.

‘Are you alright?’

‘Yeah, sure, just don’t know what to do with myself really,’ said Armie, ‘I’ve never really done anything like this before…’

‘That’s alright,’ said Timmy with a smile, ‘Most people I work with haven’t.’

‘D’you… want a drink?’

‘I’ll just have water, please,’ he said, ‘If you want to though, go ahead.’

Armie nodded with a rueful grin, ‘Might help a bit.’

Timmy watched as he headed over to the mini bar and got out a small bottle of whisky that he poured into a tumbler, neat.

‘Is it alright if I just get set up?’ Timmy asked gently, he didn’t want to spook the guy, for some reason he seemed kind of nervous and on edge.

‘Sure, go ahead,’ said the bigger guy, taking a swig of his whisky.

‘So, tell me a bit about this whilst I get set up,’ said Timmy, trying to keep the conversation light, ‘The woman who set it up for you said you were game..?’

Armie chuckled in the back of his throat, ‘That was Kate, she’s a good friend of mine, known her since we were in high school together. She wanted to do something that…’

He broke off with a sigh. Timmy didn’t push him, but left his sentence hanging so he would feel the need to fill the quiet.

Armie shrugged, ‘She thought I might need my confidence building a bit, and one night we were drinking, and she suggested this. I dunno, it seemed like it could be a bit of fun.’

A bit fun costing nearly $3000 thought Timmy, as he screwed the small white light umbrella that he’d brought with him together. He had some other gadgets with him as well, but he’d start with this, check the lighting and the atmosphere, and go from there. He’d noted the bit where Armie had spoken about a “boost to his confidence.” Not that he was stereotyping, but with this type of photography, he expected to hear that from women of a certain age, or couples who had been married for a handful of decades, not a man who was clearly in his prime. Why did he need a confidence boost?

Once he had his camera in his hand he felt all the better for it; this was what he knew how to do, and how to do it well. Not many people made enough money from their photographs to open a gallery in Manhattan by the age of 26, but he had. His sister had told him that he was getting cocky, and that it wasn’t attractive. He’d tried to mollify himself slightly, but he was proud of his work, and he didn’t see why he shouldn’t be.

‘Are you ready to get started?’ he said gently to Armie, ‘I’m just going to do some test shots to get the light right, and then we’ll talk about what you want to get out of this.’

‘Okay,’ said Armie, with a small smile, ‘Where do you want me?’

‘Just sit on the end of the bed,’ said Timmy, as Armie shuffled over to the end of the bed and sat down, still holding his tumbler of whisky. Timmy adjusted his camera to what he thought would work, and then took a few snaps, focusing on Armie’s face. Looking through the viewfinder he couldn’t help but focus on the man’s long eyelashes, his high cheekbones, and the small upturn at the side of his mouth. He truly was beautiful, and one thing that Timmy immediately noticed, was that he didn’t seem to know it.

‘Perfect,’ he said after a moment, lowering the camera. He made a few small adjustments and then looked back at his subject. He moved back a few steps, and propped himself up against the TV stand.

‘So, what are you hoping we’re going to capture today… Armie?’ he asked, ‘Your friend on the phone didn’t give much away.’

Armie looked down at his hands and then shrugged slightly, ‘I’m not sure. I looked at some of your work online and… well, it varies… a lot.’

‘That’s one way of putting it,’ said Timothée with a grin, ‘Don’t worry, I only do hardcore shoots with people I’ve been working with for a long time.’

Armie looked up then and smirked, ‘Oh, so you won’t be asking me to shove a dildo up my ass?’

Timmy giggled, ‘You saw that one then, huh?’

‘Hmmm,’ Armie agreed nonchalantly.

‘You’re right,’ said Timmy, ‘I do do some fairly pornographic images, but anything we do today will be exactly what you want. Nothing more, nothing less.’

Armie breathed out heavily through his nose, ‘I don’t… I don’t exactly know what I want.’

‘Okay, let’s start with something easy; who are these pictures going to be for? Girlfriend?’

Armie chuckled, ‘No.’

‘Wife? Lover?’

‘No, and no.’

Timmy hesitated, ‘Boyfriend?’

‘No,’ said Armie, shaking his head, ‘They’re just for me.’

‘Alright, well that clears that up; not trying to please anyone is a good place to start,’ said Timmy.

‘Only pleasing myself,’ said Armie, ‘I… er… used to do a bit of modelling, back in the day.’

Timmy chuckled, ‘That doesn’t surprise me.’

Armie’s eyebrows rose, ‘Really?’

Timmy glanced at him, mirroring his expression, ‘Have you looked at yourself? You’re some menswear designer’s wet dream.’

Armie looked down and blushed, and Timmy wondered if he’d said something wrong.

‘Yeah, I stopped modelling about four years ago… after, well…,’ Armie struggled. Timothée didn’t speak, feeling like he was getting pretty close to the reason why he was here today. Armie blushed again and stopped talking.

‘Y’know,’ said Timmy, ‘You don’t have to tell me, if you don’t want to.’

‘No, it’s fine,’ said Armie, looking up, and Timothée was dismayed to see a slight glistening of tears in his eyes, but as Armie was looking at him directly, he didn’t draw attention to it. He’d had women cry on him on his line of work, but this was a first.

‘I should get used to talking about it,’ Armie said, ‘Or at least be able to. It’s fine, it’s nothing, really. My ex, didn’t like me modelling, he said it made me look cheap.’

Timmy didn’t say anything, but filed away the gender of Armie’s ex for information.

‘Done right, modelling and photography don’t make you look cheap,’ Timmy countered, ‘It’s a form of art; the beauty of the human form, and the different ways it can be dressed.’

‘That’s what I used to think,’ said Armie, ‘Rich thought it was just another type of whoring. Look pretty, and get paid.’

Timmy made a derisive noise in the back of his throat. 

‘Yeah, I know,’ said Armie with a shrug, ‘He didn’t like the idea of other people looking at me.’

Now Timmy could see where the “build his confidence” came from; clearly this man’s ex had been an absolute douche canoe, and now that they had broken up, Armie needed some gentle encouragement as to what he had formerly been capable of.

‘Thanks for telling me that Armie,’ said Timmy softly, ‘As I said, nothing today you don’t want to do.’

Armie’s eyes met his, and he smiled gently, nodding, ‘Nothing that I don’t want.’


End file.
